


once the dust has settled

by jyancity



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, EMTs do not interact, Eventual Smut, Healing, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mental Health Issues, The Leftovers AU, Trauma, heavily inspired by the Evermore album, this is gonna be a sad one boys!!
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-09
Updated: 2021-01-11
Packaged: 2021-03-10 20:41:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,671
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28313247
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jyancity/pseuds/jyancity
Summary: My name is John Jun Suh. I’m twenty-five years old. I am an EMT. I had—.He swallowed. The past-tense still hurt.I had a fiance named Kun. Two years ago, two percent of the population vanished. We don’t know why. It is unlikely that they will ever come back. Kun was part of that two percent.He could almost hear his therapist Doyoung’s voice pushing him to think it. To process the words.Kun is gone. I am still here.Today will be good, despite that really fucked up fact.-The Leftovers AU for NCTV Fic Exchange
Relationships: Lee Taeyong/Chittaphon Leechaiyapornkul | Ten, Lee Taeyong/Suh Youngho | Johnny, Suh Youngho | Johnny/Qian Kun
Comments: 30
Kudos: 42
Collections: NCTV Secret Santa 2020





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

  * For [jaekyu](https://archiveofourown.org/users/jaekyu/gifts).



> Thank you to the mods for making this exchange so very easy to participate in. Thank you to my beta for your support and encouragement.
> 
> Dear prompter, please enjoy ˙ᵕ˙

It was no different than any other call.

Johnny took the point position, sitting next to the patient and making her comfortable while his partner, Lily, focused on monitoring her vitals. The little girl’s eyes wandered around the ambulance, wide and wet, clearly unfamiliar with her surroundings. He took her hand.

“This is gonna be some story, huh?” He asked, smiling. “Your classmates will be so jealous that you got to leave early, _and_ ride in an ambulance!”

“Yeah.” The second-grader sniffled. “My little brother likes fire trucks and ambulances, too.”

“Well, then we’d better make sure you have some mementos to show him!” Johnny glanced up at Lily, who nodded with a relieved smile. It was always scary to get called for pediatric head injuries, but her vitals were fine, at least. He reached into a compartment to his left, pulling out a small canvas bag of tiny _Hot Wheels_ ambulances and little paramedic dog figurines they kept especially for cases like this.

“Now, normally we let our favorite patients just pick one,” he said solemnly, feeling a smile tug at his mouth, “but since you’re being _extra_ brave, and since you took _quite_ the tumble off those monkey bars during recess, you can have one of each. That sound good?”

“Thank you.” The little girl smiled, and Johnny nodded, depositing both toys in her hand. He turned back to place the bag in its cabinet.

Nothing changed in that moment. He would live it over and over again in his head, racking his brain for _something_ that would indicate that everything would go wrong. But there was nothing.

When he turned around, the girl was gone. The toys sat on a blanket that looked as if it were simply rumpled. The safety straps were still buckled in place. He looked around the compartment, not believing his eyes.

“Lil—?” His voice cut out as he realized his partner was missing, too. He was alone in the back of the ambulance. He looked at the spot where she had sat, and then at the bed, as if staring hard enough would bring them back.

“Yuta?” He called.

“What’s up?” The driver replied.

“Yuta, the patient is gone. And so is Lily.” Johnny undid his buckle, shoulder hitting the wall as the ambulance swayed. He grabbed hold of one of the bars on the wall, stumbling his way toward the driver.

“Is right now a good time for a prank, dude?” Yuta scoffed, glancing over his shoulder as Johnny clambered into the front. “Don’t you have a patient to take care of?”

“They… I don’t—?” Johnny knew it sounded crazy. He couldn’t quite wrap his brain around it, either. But they were _gone_. “Yuta, I’m not fucking around. I don’t know what just happened. I turned around to put the toys away, and when I turned back, they were both fucking gone.”

They turned into the ER receiving area, and Yuta glanced at Johnny as he parked.

“This isn’t funny, dude.” There was a warning tone in his voice. Normally they had a friendly relationship— minority solidarity, being men of similar ages, all of that— but they were professionals, too. Yuta wasn’t the type to put up with pranks while working, but neither was Johnny.

Johnny opened his mouth to say as much, when the ER doors flew open to reveal… nobody. There wasn’t a single doctor waiting to receive their patient.

“Fucking hell, I called them not even five minutes ago with our ETA.” Yuta growled, unbuckling himself and flinging the door open.

Johnny followed numbly, circling the front of the ambulance to follow the driver. Yuta stalked around the side to the back doors, flinging them open. Then he paused.

“What the hell is going on?” He asked, staring around the compartment.

“I don’t know.” Johnny shook his head, staring with him.

The ER doors opened to reveal a doctor, her blonde hair thrown into a lop-sided ponytail and her face pale as a sheet.

“You’re going to have to head to Saint Mary’s, we’re suddenly short-staffed and… well. I don’t fucking know how else to tell you this, but we’re missing patients. We can’t take anymore until we’ve got that figured out.”

Johnny met Yuta’s eyes, his stomach sinking as they both realized that something was very, very wrong.

“We… should call dispatch?” The statement came out like a question, but Johnny wasn’t exactly sure what else to say.

“I’ll do that, you… you should get ahold of who you need to.” Yuta nodded, face morphing from fear to steely determination. They were professionals, dammit.

“Right. Let me know when you’re ready to roll out.” Johnny pulled his cell phone from his pocket, unlocking it and opening the phone app. Kun’s smiling face in his contact photo made his heart squeeze in fear.

 _Be alright,_ he thought to himself, _if you’re alright, I’ll be alright._

The phone didn’t even ring. He tried again. And again. He realized with sinking certainty that the lines were probably too overloaded. There was no way he would be able to get a call through.

“Shit.” He whispered.

Yuta came back around the corner, said something to him about dispatch, finishing the shift as a two-man crew, lots of emergencies, all hands on deck. He nodded, taking every doom-y feeling swirling around his chest and shoving it into a shoe-box in the back of his mind. 

Kun was probably fine. He was probably trying to call him, too. He was probably waiting at home, in their little apartment, watching the news and pacing the living room like the worry-wart he was. This had probably interrupted him as he worked on wedding planning, or graded, and watched daytime tv. It was an in-service day in his school district, but he had brought his work home. He was probably camped next to the tv, his wedding portfolio forgotten in favor of grading, and now fretting. Yes. That had to be the case.

Kun was probably fine. No. Kun _was_ fine. He was.

The rest of the shift passed in a blur. Whatever had happened, there were unmanned vehicles running rampant in the streets, which meant that he was kept _busy_. When he got too exhausted to keep reading patient charts, Yuta took over and had him drive, instead. 

For eight hours, they worked hard. Harder than Johnny had ever worked before.

And then their shift ended.

He barely even said goodbye to Yuta before booking it to his car, shoving his key in the ignition and peeling out of his spot. Then he was in front of his apartment, unable to recall the drive at all, and unable to care. He took the stairs two at a time before reaching the second floor. His shaking hands fumbled, it took him three tries to get the key into the lock. He stumbled in through the door, his shoes still on, running in to find a dark living room bathed in blue light. The TV had that awful emergency-broadcast tone playing, the screen black and flashing a message he was too panicked to read. There was a mug of cold tea on the coffee table, bag still in it. The laundry was half folded.

“No.” He gasped, staggering into the kitchen. Empty.

“ _No_.” It was guttural, now. The keening of a wounded animal. The bedroom was as cold and dark as the rest of their space, bed unmade. “No, no no. NO!”

He sunk to his knees. He hadn’t said goodbye. That morning, when he left for his shift. Kun was still sleeping, and he’d kissed him on the cheek and snuck out so he could sleep in. He hadn’t fucking said _goodbye_.

There was an awful sound echoing against the walls. Someone was hurt. It sounded like they were dying. He collapsed onto his side, the carpet scratching his face, and the fucking _sound_ wouldn’t stop. He pressed his hands over his ears, but he could still hear it. Rumbling from his own chest. Broken sobbing, a name.

 _Kun! Kun, baby,_ please _! KUN!_

He blacked out.

Johnny opened his eyes to see sunlight slanting over a nose sculpted by god herself. He smiled, reaching over warm, rumpled sheets to tangle his fingers in black hair. That perfect nose scrunched, and eyes like warm honey in the morning light fluttered open to meet his. His heart skipped, still, after all that time.

“Good morning baby.” He whispered, and Kun stretched, joints popping as he slowly melted back into the mattress.

“Hey,” Kun’s morning voice— honestly, most things about Kun— made Johnny want to write stupid, sappy love poems, “sleep well?”

“Mm,” Johnny blinked, feeling a small seed of dread still sitting heavy in his belly, “I guess? I had a nightmare.”

“Poor babe.” Kun pouted jokingly, planting a feather-light kiss to his nose. Johnny smiled as his fiance pulled away, only to continue pressing kisses to his cheeks, eyelids, forehead, any available surface. “Need to talk about it?”

“It was just weird.” He sighed, eyes slipping shut. “I was working, Yuta was driving and Lily was monitoring the patient, and then the patient and Lily just… vanished?”

“That _is_ weird.” Kun murmured.

“And then I came home and you were gone, too. It was awful. I’ve never felt so—.” He paused. The kisses had stopped. His eyes flew open to find the sunlight had gone. The room was dark, the sheets cold, and Kun missing. He could hear a distant ringing.

“No.” He breathed, heart racing. “ _No_ —!”

He sat upright in bed, chest heaving, to his alarm going off. He felt clammy, hands shaking as he picked his phone off the bedside table and shut off the ringing. He took a couple deep breaths. It didn’t bode well to wake up already having a panic attack. Johnny crossed his legs, leaning forward to put his head in his hands, focusing.

_My name is John Jun Suh. I’m twenty-five years old. I am an EMT. I had—._

He swallowed. The past-tense still hurt.

_I had a fiance named Kun. Two years ago, two percent of the population vanished. We don’t know why. It is unlikely that they will ever come back. Kun was part of that two percent._

He could almost hear his therapist Doyoung’s voice pushing him to think it. To process the words.

 _Kun is gone. I am still here._ _Today will be good, despite that really fucked up fact._

Doyoung didn’t love that phrasing, but Johnny was comfortable allowing himself at least one swear word while he had to do this little song-and-dance every morning. And he meant _every morning_. Two years of scrabbling for scraps of sanity, torn from his hands by the howling emptiness Kun’s disappearance had left in his life. Like shreds of paper in a windstorm.

He sighed, throwing his legs over the edge of the bed, standing and trudging to the shower.

Under the warm spray, he felt somewhat more human. After a cup of coffee, he felt even better. He ran over the to-do list he had written himself the day before. Lists were also part of his therapy. Something about giving each day meaning, or whatever.

_Groceries (list in notes app)_

_Call Mom_

_Support group - 3:30pm, Sacred Heart Catholic Church (yes to have to) (also bring a snack to share)_

_Dinner with Mark and Yuta_

The first and second could be completed at the same time, he figured. The third… He knew Doyoung would go absolutely feral if he didn’t show. He’d been needling him to go to the stupid group for a month, after he’d complained about how hard it was when none of his friends really got what he was going through.

Two percent of the population. One out of every fifty people. Of course, everyone knew someone who had disappeared, but not as many people had lost someone _close_ like that. It was one thing to know your high school math teacher had vanished. It was another thing when it was your fiance.

He meandered into the living room, flicking on the tv just for some background noise. He caught the news anchors just as they were transitioning to a new story. He kicked his feet up on the coffee table, taking a long sip of his coffee.

“Thank you, Laura. Well, coming up next month is the third anniversary of the day that will live forever in our minds. October fourteenth, the day of The Departure.” The man said, voice solemn as he stared just to the left of the camera. “The day that two percent of earth’s population disappeared without a trace, and have yet to return. Despite years of work, experts still have no clue where these people went, nor how to get them back. For those of us left behind, there are more questions than answers. One thing we can do, however, is promise to remember them. And remember them, we will. Beginning this year, the anniversary of The Departure will be recognized as a national day of mourning. Nonessential businesses will be asked to close in observance of this day, and memorial parades, candlelight vigils, and moments of silence will be held. Check in with your local news station to hear more about what your area is planning for this special day. Now, onto Patrick with the—.”

Johnny turned off the tv. His hands were shaking.

Three years.

He closed his eyes, head sinking into his hands as he fought off the impending panic.

Deep breaths. Deep, cleansing breaths, as if the walls weren’t closing in on him. As if he wasn’t instantly transported back to that day, walking into the old apartment to find him gone. As if he didn’t live that moment over, and over, and _over_ , every moment of every day for the past _three years_.

He stood abruptly, stumbling for the bathroom. He nearly pulled the medicine cabinet off the wall as he wrenched it open, knocking several bottles off the shelf as he closed his hand around the one labeled ‘TAKE AS NEEDED’. He twisted the cap open, shook a couple into his hand, and swallowed them dry. He turned on the tap, cupping water in his palm and using that to chase it.

He sank to the floor.

The pills never took long to kick in. His body always relaxed first, hands steadying as he began taking deep, calming breaths. His brain always took longer, but eventually it calmed, too. He leaned against the cabinet, head thunking back against the wood as his heart slowed. 

Three years. He almost wanted to laugh at how little progress he’d made in all that time. Slowly, he pulled himself back together, applied tape to the freshly-torn edges inside of himself, and when he was ready, he stood, making for the bedroom.

He had a plan for today. Grocery store. Call Mom. Support group. Dinner.

He repeated those words like a mantra, until they turned to a dull buzz in the background of his mind.

“Yes, I’m eating.” He smiled, looking over the bunch of bananas before setting them in his cart. He was feeling much better since the morning, leaning against the push bar of the grocery cart as he walked.

“Are you eating _regularly_? I know you’re starting your new job, soon, but you have to keep track of meals, sleeping, all of that. I should come stay with you, just for a bit—.” His mother’s voice was calming, even if what she was saying made him panic just a bit.

“That’s really not necessary, mom.” He assured her, standing straight. “I’m taking care of myself, I promise. Plus I already _know_ you make Mark report back to you when he sees me.”

“I do _not_!” She spluttered, which was her habit when she lied.

“Neither of you can lie if your life depends on it.” He snorted, pulling a box of cereal off the shelf on reflex. He glanced down, looking it over, only to realize it wasn’t _his_ favorite. It was Kun’s. He set it back on the shelf, pulling his hand away as if the cardboard had burned him.

“Fine.” His mother conceded, huffing. “But I just want to make sure you’re okay. I know you try to keep me from worrying, John, but that makes me worry more.”

“I know, mom.” He frowned, grabbing his own cereal and leaving the aisle quickly. “But making my little cousin snitch on my wellbeing is a bit over the top. Really. Therapy has been helping me.”

“Well,” his mother’s voice sounded teary, which he hated. He hated making her worry, “that’s good to hear.”

“I have to check out here in a second, but it was good talking to you, mom.” He smiled, pushing his cart toward the end of the aisle. “I love you.”

“I love you too, my son.” She replied. “Talk to you later.”

“Bye.” He glanced down to hit the red ‘end call’ button, when his cart collided with another. “Oh, shit!”

“I’m so sorry, I wasn’t looking where I was going! Are you okay?” 

“I’m fine, it’s probably my fault.” He huffed, shoving his phone back into his pocket. “Guess that’s why they tell you not to talk while driving, huh?”

He finally looked down, eyes widening as he took in familiar, melted-chocolate eyes staring up at him with the same disbelieving wonder. Johnny felt his heart clench in a way it hadn’t in a long, long time, as his eyes roved over the face that took up the majority of his headspace the second half of senior year. The smaller man let out a startled laugh, taking a step back.

“Johnny Suh.” Johny’s high school crush grinned. “What on earth are you doing _here_?”

“Taeyong, good to see you, man!” Johnny found himself falling back into his best impression of his high-school self, the last version of him that Taeyong had seen. He gave the shorter man a cringey attempt at one of those heterosexual high-five/handshake/side-hug, pulling out of it as quickly as possible.

Johnny used to be great at small talk. He was always the kind of person who never let an awkward silence linger, always had something witty or interesting to contribute. And then Kun disappeared, and he fell into the yawning chasm of whatever the fuck this new reality was, and… well. Taeyong shifted uncomfortably, chewing his bottom lip for a moment before his eyes brightened.

“Hey! Last I heard, you’re a paramedic. How’s that going?” His eyes flitted about, finally landing somewhere near Johnny’s chin. Johnny took a deep breath, relaxing as they were led to steady social ground yet again.

“It’s good.” Johnny shrugged. “I, uh, I’ve been on a bit of a break lately, but I’m starting up again soon. That’s why I moved out here.”

“Oh, wow!” Taeyong’s eyes widened, fiddling with his fingers. “That’s incredible!”

“Thanks,” Johnny smiled, “but what are _you_ doing out here? You were headed to college, right?”

“Yeah, majored in early childhood development and minored in business, now I own a daycare out here.” Taeyong gestured toward his cart, which Johnny realized was packed with goldfish crackers, fruit snacks, and juice boxes. “It’s been a lot of work, but I love it.”

“That’s great.” Johnny nodded. They both fell quiet for a moment, before Johnny glanced down at his watch. “Oh! Shoot, I better check out. I have an appointment soon.”

“Oh, of course!” Taeyong nodded, grabbing his cart. “It was great running into you.”

“You too.” Johnny replied reflexively, and then realized he meant it. They weren’t close in high school, not by any means. But running into someone who had no idea about Kun, who didn’t look at him with that overwhelming pity… it was a nice change of pace. “I’ll see you around, Taeyong.”

“Have a good day, Johnny.” Taeyong smiled, and it didn't fill Johnny's chest with sunlight, but it left him feeling warm, anyway.

Johnny stood in the parking lot of Sacred Heart Catholic Church with a box of those horrendous, pink-frosted sugar cookies in hand. He was going in— really, he was— but he just needed a minute. He wasn't nervous about the support group, per se, but since Kun... He hated insincere interactions. People offering their condolences when he knew they only felt relief that it wasn't _them_. The people who told him not to give up hope. It was all so fake, it left a bad taste in his mouth, and if he knew anything at all, it was that this support group would just be another bitter pill to swallow on what Doyoung called his "road to recovery".

His phone buzzed in his pocket, and he fished it out to see a text from the man himself.

_We're in the basement. If you bail, I will hunt you for sport ˙ᵕ˙_

The heavy wooden door swung open with a creak, and Johnny padded his way down carpeted stairs until he reached a small recreational room, where a group of about ten people mingled around a table full of sad-looking snacks.

Doyoung waved him over, and Johnny grimaced as he held up the cookies.

"Don't look so eager to be here, it'll give everyone a weird vibe." Doyoung deadpanned, taking the cookies and immediately prying the plastic shell open, shoving it into an empty spot on the table.

"I told you, this isn't my thing." Johnny huffed, shifting his weight from one foot to the other.

"Well, your _thing_ seems to be hanging out with the same two people, staying home, and moping." Doyoung patted his shoulder. "It's time to branch out."

Johnny winced, but nodded. His therapist didn't hold back, but that was precisely what he liked about the man. It was such a breath of fresh air after being treated like fractured glass for years. Still, he knew to duck out of the conversation before Doyoung decided to really dig into him.

Johnny migrated toward the chairs in the center of the room, set up in a circle on a stage. The more he looked around, the more he came to realize this must be a children's classroom. The paper tree on the wall that spelled _Fruits of the Spirit_ in the leaves, with paper cut outs of apples depicting different virtues littering the branches, the toy box near the door, the rug depicting a cartoon town, with roads and houses and businesses. As he took a seat in a creaky metal chair, Johnny steeled himself for what he was sure would be a sob fest.

"First group?" Johnny glanced up just as someone took the seat next to him. The stranger stretched out his lanky legs, his jeans showing more skin than denim. Deep, cavernous dimples adorned each corner of a smile as Johnny finally remembered that eye contact was an important factor in communication.

"That obvious?" Johnny snorted. The stranger nodded, his grin becoming bolder.

"It's the way you immediately clung to Doctor Kim upon entering." He chuckled, shrugging. "I'm Jaehyun."

"Johnny." He replied, holding out a hand. "You a regular here?"

"Oh, yeah." Jaehyun gestured grandly around the room. "It's the hottest spot in town. No better place to meet hot, young, depressed singles."

"Jesus." Johnny felt a laugh explode out of him, despite his better judgment. 

"Too dark?" Jaehyun asked, eyebrow quirked.

"Nah, just surprisingly honest." He replied.

"Well, all we have is each other here." Jaehyun glanced down. "So."

Johnny looked up to see the others beginning to find seats. For the most part, about four of the ten of them were young, and the rest were somewhere in the age range Johnny would describe as _not old, but probably graduated high school before I was born_. 

“Well, since almost everyone is here, we can go ahead and get started.” Doyoung clapped his hands, settling into his own chair. “I won’t beat around the bush, I’m sure you’ve all noticed we gained a new member. Why don’t we let him introduce himself?”

Johnny felt his hands go clammy almost immediately. He wiped them on his jeans, forcing himself to smile as every eye in the circle turned to him.

“Hi,” he began, too quietly. He cursed internally as he cleared his throat, trying again, “Hello. I’m Johnny—.”

“Sorry I’m late!” He froze as a familiar voice called from the entrance, hurried footsteps muted by the carpet. Johnny turned in his chair to see Taeyong setting a tray of banana bread on the table, the slices still steaming. “It needed a little longer in the oven than I expected, and then there was construction on the roads—!”

“It’s fine, Taeyong.” Doyoung cut him off, smile tight. “Our new member was just introducing himself.”

“Oh! And I’m interrupting. I’m so sorry—.” Taeyong’s wide, mortified eyes somehow grew larger when they landed on Johnny. Johnny didn’t doubt that he looked just as floored as Taeyong, although Taeyong seemed to recover first, finding a chair across the circle and taking a seat. “I’m sorry. Please, go ahead.”

“Uh. Right.” Johnny mentally shook himself, trying to find his place once more. “I’m Johnny Suh, I’m here because… well, Doctor Kim told me I need to get out of the house more.”

That earned him a chuckle from the group. He leaned back, relaxing a bit.

“I’m twenty-five, I’m a paramedic.” He took a deep breath, steeling himself for the next part. “I, uh. I was engaged, before the… you know. His name w— I mean, _is_ Kun.”

Johnny scrambled for something else to say, something to add. He wanted to tell them about the way Kun’s nose scrunched when he laughed, how he was so gentle and kind, and yet so fiery when he cared about something. The way he always won at Monopoly. But the words didn’t come. The silence felt suffocating as he wracked his brain for ways to put the man he loved into words, when someone else chimed in.

“I’m Taeil.” The smaller man sat in a chair between Taeyong and Doyoung smiled. “My wife vanished, her name is Seulgi.”

“I’m Jaehyun.” The man sat beside him clapped a hand on his shoulder, a grounding gesture. “I lost my mom.”

Slowly, everyone in the circle introduced themselves, as well as the person they had lost. Finally, it was down to one person, and Johnny felt his eyes land on him the same way they always had in English class senior year.

“Taeyong,” he finally smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes, “and I lost my best friend. Ten.”

“That was great, everyone.” Doyoung nodded, his smile small, but eyes shining with pride as his gaze swept over the group, pausing on Johnny. “Why don’t we keep this ball rolling and talk about how this week’s assignment went, yeah?”

Johnny felt as if he watched the rest of the session go by from under water. He could see the distorted mouths moving and hands gesturing, but the words sounded far away and indistinguishable to his ears. Before he knew it, the chairs were being put away and the food was being consumed once more as people began collecting their things. Doyoung came up to him, seeming to search his face.

“You look like you need some air.” The doctor said with a tone of finality, pulling him up and dragging him to the stairs. 

Johnny stumbled after him, watching carpet turn to asphalt as he stared at his shuffling feet, focusing on each breath as his lungs pulled them in. The air was cool outside, and the shock of it helped him gain his stability again, taking in his surroundings. Cars, trees, brick wall… concerned therapist staring him down. Right.

“Sorry.” He huffed, leaning back against the bricks, feeling their rough texture scrape across the denim of his jacket. “I think… it might have been a bit much for me.”

“Understandable.” Doyoung nodded, still scrutinizing him. “It can be a bit overwhelming, especially when you’re used to processing this when it’s just the two of us in sessions.”

“Yeah, exactly.” Johnny nodded, relieved. “I think our one-on-ones were much more comfortable.”

“And that’s exactly why we aren’t doing them anymore.” Doyoung nodded. Johnny blinked.

“But—!”

“We’ve already discussed this, John. If you want to make progress, this is how. And I am not the kind of doctor who will let you stagnate.” Doyoung had clearly come into this conversation with his remarks prepared, and Johnny bitterly realized there hadn’t even been a sentence he wanted to attach to his protest. He sighed.

“I just don’t feel ready.” He scrambled for a way to turn the dark, swirling dread in his chest into words, but his thoughts slid from his hands like water. “I don’t know. Sharing with others, it makes me… feel bad. I wasn’t even there for most of that meeting.”

“I could tell.” Doyoung nodded, unimpressed. “Can you explain what exactly made you feel that way?”

“I think it was talking about him.” Johnny didn’t specify who. He didn’t have to. “Sharing him with everyone. Even though they shared, too, I just… talking about him with people who didn’t know him feels strange.”

“I didn’t know him.” Doyoung pointed out.

“You’re different.” Johnny frowned. “You’re my _therapist._ ”

“I’m also _their_ therapist.” He gestured toward the church doors. “You have something in common! Does that make it easier?”

“I don’t want to forget him!” He wasn’t sure where that answer came from, but it felt too honest, too raw in the chilly evening air. The silence stretched thin as the words rang in his ears, the truth of them clashing around his skull like pots and pans.

“I don’t think that’s possible, Johnny.” Doyoung’s reply was gentle. “I think you remember him so well, you haven’t been able to move past The Departure. And I think that’s what’s wrong, here.”

“Sharing him with other people feels like I’m letting go of that piece of him. Like, once I give someone a little detail about him, I won’t be able to remember it as well. Like—” Johnny choked, taking a deep breath before continuing. “Like he’s leaving me. Again.”

“Okay.” Doyoung nodded after a lengthy silence. “Okay. This isn’t how I thought this conversation would go, but alright. What you’ve said is fair, and I understand if sharing is maybe off the table for you right now.”

“Thank you—.”

“But if you ever want to keep moving forward— and I know you do, despite your best efforts to self-sabotage— you need to keep coming to this group.” Doyoung asserted, gaze solemn as it swept over Johnny. “And, if I can give you my opinion, I think you’re wrong.”

“Gee, thanks.” Johnny scoffed.

“About sharing him being the same as letting him go.” The doctor clarified, rolling his eyes, though a smile tugged at his lips. “I think telling others about him is the best way to ensure that he’s never forgotten. But that’s just my two cents.”

“Thanks.” If he heard the way Johnny’s voice had gone hoarse, Doyoung had the good graces to ignore it.

“See you next week, Johnny.” Doyoung nodded before vanishing back into the church. 

Johnny lingered for a moment, the chill of the brick seeping into his shoulders. He liked how it made him feel alert, maybe even alive. He eventually gathered the will to push himself away from the wall, fishing around his pocket for his car keys as he made his way toward the vehicle.

“Johnny!” He wondered briefly how he managed to run into Lee Taeyong more that day than he had for the entirety of high school. Still, he slowed his steps, turning to see the man in question following him with the disgusting cookies he had brought with him.

“Oh,” he grabbed ahold of the box as it was shoved into his chest, “thanks, Taeyong.”

“I had no idea.” Those expressive eyes nearly dripped with regret. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t know—!”

“Why are you apologizing?” Johnny blinked, confused.

“I had no idea you were engaged, and that he vanished. I ran into you at the grocery store and I just had a whole conversation with you in the _cereal aisle_ and you were mentally preparing to be _here_ talking about your _vanished fiance_ —!”

“Oh, please don’t apologize for that, really.” Johnny held up his hands, placating, desperate for that pleasant interaction to remain a good memory. “It was actually really refreshing, not having to deal with the sympathy. It gets tiring. I’m sure you know.”

“Yeah.” Taeyong nodded, scuffing his foot across the pavement. “Still. I felt terrible that I had no idea. This is probably why Doyoung is constantly bugging me to get a personal social media profile, rather than just using the one for the daycare, but… you know.”

Johnny nodded, despite the fact that he very much did not know. His non-response seemed to be enough for Taeyong, however, as the other brightened, smiling.

“Anyways, you just moved here, right?” He dug a hand into his pocket, producing, of all things, a flip phone. “Here, why don’t you give me your number? I know how strange it can be to live somewhere new, so you can call me anytime. Or text.”

“Can you receive texts on this thing?” Johnny joked as he punched his number into the contact screen, and Taeyong laughed.

“It’s a bit of a challenge with the tiny keyboard, so it’s much faster to call, if I’m honest.” He admitted. After carefully spelling out his name, Johnny handed the fossil back over. Taeyong immediately hit the green phone button, and Johnny felt his own cell phone begin to vibrate in his pocket. “There. Now you have my contact.”

“Great.” Johnny glanced at the screen, about to add his contact, when two missed texts caught his attention.

 _hey bro,_ Mark’s message read, _got a crazy long essay due in the morning. think i’m gonna have to do dinner another night. tell yuta i say hi :)_

Directly below that, Yuta had sent, _Just got called to cover a call-out tonight. Have fun with Mark!_

He sighed, staring down at the screen for a moment before his eyes slid back up to Taeyong, who was politely looking elsewhere.

“Hey,” Johnny tapped his finger against the cool glass of the phone screen, “are you hungry?”

The apartment was new, as was most of the furniture, but the couch and the dining table were the two things he couldn’t bear to part with when he had moved. The couch because, well, finding a comfortable couch was hard. He liked the one they’d had, even though the image of half-folded laundry and a still-open wedding planning journal flashed across his eyes when he looked at it sometimes.

The dining table, though. Kun had found it at a vintage store and had fallen instantaneously and permanently in love.

 _“It’s gotta be, like, three thousand pounds, babe.”_ Johnny had laughed. _“It’s solid oak! Plus, how are we going to get it through the door of our apartment?”_

 _“It’s_ sturdy _.”_ Kun had been pleading with his eyes, knowing full well Johnny never stood a chance when it came to making him happy. _“We’ll have to disassemble it to get it in, but that won’t take long at all. This is the kind of thing we can pass on to_ our _children, Johnny._ And _it’s on sale!”_

And so they’d bought it, lugged it back home, taken it apart in the hallway and put it back together in their dining nook. It was a beautiful piece of furniture, and it didn’t hurt to look at it anymore. Not badly, anyway. Plus, he’d paid a pretty penny for the thing, he may as well use it.

“This is a nice place.” Taeyong commented from his perch at the table, one knee tucked to his chest as he watched Johnny cook. “I love the table.”

“Thanks.” Johnny smiled, adding final seasonings to the sizzling wok of fried rice. It was a little awkward, of course, to be spontaneously hanging out with someone who— despite having an embarrassingly massive crush on him— he had never really hung out with in high school. Still, awkward company was company, and company kept the dark and twisty feelings away. For Johnny, that was enough.

“So, where were you before you moved out here?” Taeyong rested his chin on his knee. Johnny smiled, knowing his high school self would be in hysterics over how cute it made the smaller man look.

“Home,” Johnny shrugged, “I went back there to recoup a bit. I was fine on my own for a while, after The Departure, but… It caught up to me. Thankfully, my mom never needs an excuse to dote on me, so it was great to be with them for a bit while I got my bearings back.”

“And you moved out here for the job?” Taeyong asked.

“Yeah, my friend, Yuta, moved out here and loves it.” Johnny nodded. “He told me about the opening, and I’d been wanting to go back to work. Plus, my little cousin goes to the university. It was a fresh start, but I didn’t have to be completely alone.”

“Smart.” Taeyong nodded. “I’ve just been here since I graduated. It was what made sense at the time, and now my roots are in the dirt and I couldn’t leave if I tried.”

“That’s exactly what I’m hoping for.” Johnny made his way to the fridge, pulling out a beer for himself, gesturing wordlessly with the bottle. Taeyong nodded, and Johnny grabbed him one as well before seating himself at the table. “I felt pretty settled at my last place, but after… I couldn’t stay.”

“Yeah.” Taeyong nodded, taking a sip of his drink, wincing a bit at the burn and the taste. “The memories.”

“Exactly.” Johnny felt like he could sag with the relief of being understood. “How is that for you?”

“Some days, it’s totally fine.” Taeyong stared at his bottle. His cheeks were already beginning to turn a bit pink. Johnny took a swig of his own, wanting to catch up. “Some days it hits me like a semi truck, out of nowhere.”

“Yeah.” Johnny traced a line in the table, a mark that predated that fateful day it entered their lives. “I feel like I have more ‘semi truck days’than normal ones.”

The meal was soon forgotten, both of them migrating to the couch to nurse their beers and talk careful circles around the empty spaces in their lives. Eventually, the conversation turned to school, memories of before everything became dark and messy and complicated.

“You were such a clown,” Taeyong laughed, face flushed with joy and intoxication, “seriously, every class with you was a highlight. You were hilarious, and you were friends with _everyone_.”

“Not everyone.” Johnny felt himself grinning, Taeyong’s own bright mood seeping into him as well.

“Yes, everyone! You were voted _Friendliest Face_ , weren’t you?” Taeyong raised a brow. Johnny couldn’t argue with that.

“Pointless title,” he shrugged, playing it off, “anyone could have a friendly face.”

“Sure.” Taeyong scoffed, leaning in to push his shoulder. His pretty lips pulled into an equally pretty smirk, and Johnny’s eyes felt glued to them as they formed more words to tease him. “You only won because they needed _someone_ to fill the spot.”

“Exactly.” He nodded, reasoning slipping away from him as he grinned, wide and sloppy and certainly unattractive. “If it were up to me, I would have gotten _Most Likely to be Mistaken For a Coat Hanger_.”

Taeyong snorted as if that were the funniest thing he’d ever heard. It was the alcohol, Johnny was sure, but it still felt nice to make a good looking guy laugh.

“And what would _I_ have won?” Taeyong asked, leaning in. “If you can’t remember, I didn’t win anything, because I was a shy nerd with no friends, by the way.”

“Prettiest smile.” Johnny answered, no hesitation. Some part of his brain signalled that he should be embarrassed, but he was just uninhibited enough to smile confidently instead. “Easy.”

Taeyong’s eyes widened, the flush on his cheeks spreading to the rest of his face, and Johnny felt as if he was seventeen years old again. He would sit at his spot in the back of their English class (because he was too tall to sit closer), and he would watch as Taeyong Lee took a break from his dutiful note-taking to stare out the window, the sunshine catching his black hair where it fell over his eyes. His heart squeezed, his breath quickened, and he wasn’t entirely sure who moved first, but those pretty lips were suddenly on his, and the order of events ceased to matter.

Taeyong kissed boldly, teeth catching on Johnny’s bottom lip, tongue dancing out to explore the shape of Johnny’s lips and what lay beyond them. His hands caught in Johnny’s hair, pulling them closer, and Johnny found himself trying to keep up, hands landing on Taeyong’s impossibly small waist. Taeyong came up for air first, tracing a burning path of kisses across his cheek, down his jaw, to latch onto his neck. Johnny felt his breath catch, and suddenly Taeyong was in his lap, and he felt himself surrender to the pull of pleasure.

It wasn’t long until he realized he was hard, and as he unconsciously shifted to preserve his dignity (it was absolutely too soon to be this bothered, but it had been a while), Taeyong ground down, a knowing smile dancing across his lips.

“Need a hand with that?” He whispered, breath stirring the hair by Johnny’s ear, sending goosebumps all down his arms.

“I…” Johnny wanted to say yes. He wanted it so bad, he could hear his teenage self screaming at him from a corner of his brain for the way the rest of him seemed to be turning to ice. It was as if all the alcohol had left his system suddenly, and now that the warm, glowing haze of intoxication was gone, he felt… wrong. It was all wrong.

“Should I take that as a ‘no’?” Taeyong leaned back, eyes flitting over Johnny’s undoubtedly hesitant face. He seemed to get his answer, because Taeyong pressed a kiss to Johnny’s cheek before he scooted back, landing on the couch with his knees tucked to his chest. “That’s alright. I understand.”

“I hate this.” Johnny sighed, running a hand over his face. “I’m sorry.”

“I get it. Really.” Taeyong reached out a hand to squeeze his wrist, holding tight to him. “However, I will have to trouble you for a bowl of that fried rice, since I’m a little too buzzed to be driving anywhere.”

One bowl of fried rice later, Johnny had lost the battle of insisting to walk Taeyong to his car, and had to content himself with merely showing him to the door. The smaller man shuffled into his shoes on much steadier feet, slipped on his jacket, and turned to Johnny with a small, secretive smile.

“Don’t beat yourself up over it, okay? Grief is weird, I get it.” He said for what felt like the thousandth time.

“Still.” Johnny replied, also for the thousandth time.

The quiet pressed against them like a blanket, but not uncomfortably so. Johnny felt a seed of apprehension growing in his stomach, knowing what he wanted to say, but needing to gather the courage.

 _What have you got to lose at this point?_ he scoffed to himself, before standing straighter.

“I liked you.” He confessed. Taeyong’s eyes flew wide, gaze landing on him. “Senior year, I was absolutely infatuated with you. I never said anything. I don’t know why, I think I just knew you were way too driven to end up with someone as directionless as me—.”

“I’ve got you beat, then.” Taeyong grinned.

“What?”

“I win.” Taeyong reached behind himself, turning the doorknob, the door swinging open. “I started liking you in freshman year. I win.”

“You—?” Johnny began, but Taeyong darted to his tip toes, pressing a short, chaste kiss to his jaw.

“Goodnight, Johnny.” He said, a small smile playing at his lips. “Call me.”

And then Taeyong Lee disappeared down the hallway, and Johnny was left in the aftermath of a deeply confusing day. He got ready for bed in a daze, unsure of how he really felt. The guilt of kissing someone who wasn’t Kun gnawed at the corners of his mind, but the strange butterflies set by Taeyong’s confession seemed to be at war with the guilt. His conflicting emotions felt like a tangled ball of yarn lodged in his throat.

Johnny fell into bed, closed his eyes, and, for the first time in months, dreamt of nothing at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> don't forget to leave a kudo or a comment!
> 
> find me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/jyancity%E2%80%9D%20rel=) or [curiouscat](https://curiouscat.me/jyancity%E2%80%9D%20rel=)
> 
> next update: 1/11/2021 (sorry for the delay i am american and also just had a weird week outside of the attempted coup ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ )


	2. Chapter Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry this chapter ran a bit behind, i've had A Day but here it is!! my life is going to be unexpectedly insane this next month with preparing to move internationally, so i'll try to keep up my weekly update plan but we will have to see. if nothing else, i'll have PLENTY of time in quarantine to finish this out ˙ᵕ˙

When Johnny was small, he’d been afraid of heights. Of course, like most small children, this fact did not make itself apparent until he was trapped in the tallest part of the fast-food chain’s playland structure, wailing loudly in a plastic tube. When one is so little, even the smallest height can feel daunting, and Johnny was certain that he was suspended high enough in the air to get a belt loop caught on a passing plane that would carry him away. Other children stared at him, wide-eyed and distressed, trying to comfort him, coax him along, but the fear paralyzed him, and he screamed for his mother.

“Umma!” He’d sobbed, tears rolling down plump cheeks. “Umma, help!”

And then she’d appeared, all 5’2” of her scrabbling her way up the structure, into that claustrophobic little tube with him. She’d guided him down the slide, sat him at their table, and coached him back to being calm.

“Breathe, my love. You’re okay now.” She’d wiped his tears with a scratchy napkin, taking deep breaths with him until sobs turned to hiccups. As he calmed, he became a little embarrassed, and very amazed. In his eyes, she was a superhero.

“You’re so brave, Umma.” He took a sip of apple juice, watching as his mom’s face went from careful concern to amused delight— her default expression when looking at her son.

“Not brave, John.” She’d corrected. “That’s just what love does.”

As he grew, Johnny came to realize that she was right. Love and bravery were two sides of the same coin— there was no courage without love, and no love without courage. This fact only solidified for him further when he came to know (and love) Kun. With every tangle of fingers, every brush of lips, Johnny felt his courage grow and grow within him, like a supernova.

The supernova collapsed with Kun’s disappearance. Because that’s what they would never tell you about love, or bravery. That’s what he had learned at age four. The higher you climb, the further you have to fall.

“Hey, Johnny.” Yuta’s voice pulled him out of his daze, and the EMT came back to himself. “You alright?”

“Yeah, just zoned out.” He yawned, feeling his spine crack as he stretched. It had been a long shift, and he was the newbie, so he spent most of the twelve hours proving himself, doing the grunt work. It was good, though. The harder he worked, the less he thought, and the less he thought, the better he felt. He guided the ambulance back into its designated space, and began helping Yuta and Corrinne with the end-of-shift duties. 

When the keys were returned to the depot and they were all successfully clocked off, Johnny bid farewell to his counterparts and began running over his mental checklist for the rest of the day. Shower, pass out for a few hours, maybe help Mark with his A&P homework—

“You going to support group?” Johnny nearly jumped out of his skin, turning just in time to catch Yuta’s cheshire cat grin.

“You should consider wearing a bell.” Johnny dodged the question, slipping his jacket on and digging around the pocket for his car key. “You almost gave me a heart attack.”

“Well, lucky for you, there’s eight ambulances parked right over there, as well as multiple trained emergency med techs in the vicinity.” Yuta rolled his eyes. “Anyways, today’s Thursday. You have group today, right?”

“Yes, it’s today.” Johnny glanced down at his phone, swiping away the threatening texts from his therapist.

“And you’re going?” Yuta had a knack for finding loopholes, including the ones Johnny created when he wanted to get out of something. It made him a good friend, though Johnny resented it in the moment. “So, you’ve finally accepted your fate of dying by Doctor Kim’s hand.”

“He won’t actually kill me, he’s too pretty to go to jail.” Johnny rolled his eyes, a new message from an unsaved number catching his eye. 

_See you at support group ᕙ(＠°▽°＠)ᕗ_

He closed his phone, shoving it deep into his pocket as he swung his car door open, sliding into the seat as he started the ignition. What he didn’t expect was for his passenger door to fly open, depositing Yuta Nakamoto into the seat. 

“Wh—? If you need a ride, you just have to _ask_.” Johnny frowned. 

“Okay, can you take me to Sacred Heart Catholic Church?” Yuta sniffed, buckling his seatbelt.

“I know what you’re trying to do, dude, and I appreciate it,” Johnny huffed, “but I don’t—.”

“You’re not allowed to skip therapy because you’re embarrassed that you semi-hooked up with your high school crush.” Yuta cut him off with a cool glare. “You’re allowed to be embarrassed, but I know for a fact you aren’t a coward, Johnny.”

“Maybe I _am_ a coward.” Johnny replied, petulant. Yuta scoffed.

“You can convince yourself whatever you want, dude.” Yuta smiled, and there was still the edge of loving annoyance to it, but it felt far less threatening than it had been seconds prior. “Just drive, yeah?”

Johnny wasn’t quite sure how to respond to that, so he did as told. The church really wasn’t too far from his work, and before he knew it, they were in the parking lot, watching other group members filter through the entrance. Johnny unbuckled his seatbelt, and so did Yuta.

“Dude.” Johnny frowned.

“What? I need the bathroom.” Yuta blinked, feigning innocence. “I’ll come right back to the car, promise.”

“Fine, just… don’t talk to anyone.” Johnny ran a hand over his face, feeling somehow as if this might be what it’s like to have a younger sibling tag along uninvited to plans. That being said, Yuta was only a few months younger than him, and far too bossy to be the younger sibling in the relationship. Either way, Johnny found curious glances cast his way as he lead Yuta down the stairs, pointing him in the direction of the restroom.

“Johnny, good to see you.” Doyoung appeared, glancing toward Yuta with that sharp gaze he pulled out when Johnny tried him. “I see you brought a friend?”

“Don’t worry, I’m not sticking around, I know it’s not my place. Just needed the bathroom.” Yuta smiled, flirty, and Johnny felt vaguely as if he had been picked up and dropped into another dimension. A dimension in which his friend was openly making a move on his therapist. “Plus, I’ve heard about Doctor Kim. He’d probably eat me alive.”

Johnny’s stomach dropped to his ankles as Doyoung smiled, slow, threatening.

“What’s your name?” The doctor asked.

“Yuta Nakamoto, I’m Johnny’s friend.” Yuta grinned, extending a hand. “And yours?”

“I’m Doyoung, but you may call me Doctor Kim.” The blood drained from Yuta’s face as Doyoung shook his hand, pointing back toward the stairs. “There’s a bathroom in the upstairs lobby. This is a closed meeting, I trust Johnny can show you out.”

Johnny shoved the car keys into Yuta’s chest and made a quick escape.

The snack table was as dismal as the week before, save for one plate. It was already half-gone, but Johnny knew the platter of chocolate chip cookies were Taeyong’s. He stared at the plate for a moment, considering, but opted for a glass of water. He turned toward the circle of chairs to find familiar eyes darting away from his gaze, and he felt guilty for some reason.

“Hey, dude.” Jaehyun grinned as Johnny took the same seat as last week.

“Hi.” Johnny felt Taeyong’s eyes on him again, but steadily did his best not to look back. He wondered briefly (if what Taeyong had said last week was true) if this is how Taeyong had felt their senior year, when Johnny’s eyes rarely landed on anything but him.

Doyoung took his chair, signalling the beginning of the meeting, and Johnny fixed his gaze on the therapist, not daring to let his eyes even flicker toward where Taeyong was sitting.

“Well, welcome back everyone.” Doyoung smiled, and Johnny could still see the menacing glimmer in his eyes that had made Yuta vanish so quickly. “It’s good to see everyone. Why don’t we go around and share a little bit about what we’re feeling?”

The answers were mostly one-word, and Johnny wasn’t certain about everyone’s names. It was mostly a parade of “I had a decent week” and “Things at work are going well,” interspersed with the occasional “I dreamt of her this week” or “It was kind of rough.”

Finally, the circle came around to Taeyong, who said something brief about how it was a tough week at work, and then attention shifted to Taeil next to him. Johnny remembered his name, the man had shared that he lost his wife. It wasn’t the same as Johnny’s loss, but similar enough.

“I had a date this week.” The man finally said, and Doyoung’s eyes widened.

“Taeil, that's amazing! How was it?” The doctor asked, a pleased note in his voice.

“I had to reschedule it. I just… couldn’t go.” He shrugged, and Johnny felt his stomach sour as his eyes finally met Taeyong’s. They both looked away just as quickly, as if eye contact alone could topple the precarious wall Johnny had built between them in the past week.

“Why not?” Doyoung pressed.

“Our wedding anniversary is the week before _the_ anniversary, you know?” Taeil stared at his hands for a moment. “It would’ve been ten years. I just… I know she would want me to keep living. She was always on me about getting out, trying new things. But going on a date so close to our anniversary felt wrong. It felt _dirty_. I couldn’t do it.”

Johnny felt his chest tighten, he felt his words piling up in his mouth, all the things he wished he could tell Taeil, or maybe himself— _I understand. I know how it feels. How can I be with anyone else when I fall asleep every night hoping to see him?_

“I think,” Taeyong’s voice cut through the dark, frenzied swarm of thoughts buzzing through Johnny’s body, “that makes sense.”

“Yeah?” Taeil asked.

“Of course. You planned on spending the rest of your life with this person. Now they’re not here anymore, but the feelings— that _commitment_ — didn’t leave with them.” Johnny didn’t miss the way Taeyong chose his words, making them applicable for people other than Taeil. He stared at his shoes. “It makes sense, but I also think you can’t make your life into a memorial of what once was. It can be easy, when you’ve been through what we all have been through. But we deserve to be happy again, too.”

“Well said, Taeyong.” Doyoung nodded. Taeil reached out, squeezing Taeyong’s slim shoulder in thanks. Johnny met his eyes briefly before Taeyong looked away.

He didn’t look at Johnny for the rest of the hour.

“Yo, dude. This place is _nice_.” Mark’s voice only cracked twice as he expressed his awe, strolling straight past Johnny and plopping himself on the couch.

“You literally helped me move in.” Johnny snorted, gesturing toward the pizza box and plates he had set up on the coffee table. It was hard to pull Mark away from his studies, but with food incentives, Johnny managed.

“Yeah, but like. Everything is set up now.” Mark took a huge bite of pizza, sauce squeezing out the side and landing on his chin. “It’s different.”

“If you say so.” Johnny snorted, grabbing a napkin and wiping the sauce away like he would when they were growing up. Mark cringed away, supposedly having outgrown his previous enjoyment of being babied. Still, Johnny could tell he leaned in just a bit when he ruffled the younger man’s hair.

“How’s the new job?” Mark asked, already starting on a second slice. Johnny tried to remember if he also ate like a half-starved coyote when he was twenty-one, but he couldn’t recall.

“It’s good, same stuff but a different place.” Johnny shrugged. “It’s nice to have a routine, I guess. Something that I do.”

Johnny realized how sad that sounded, but Mark’s face brightened.

“That’s awesome, dude.” He grinned. “You seem like you’re doing better.”

And that was what Johnny loved so much about his younger cousin. The kid was genuine, always had been. He admired Johnny growing up, and that admiration didn’t stop when Johnny’s mental health tanked, when he felt more like an open wound than a person. When Johnny had to move back home after losing Kun, Mark had come over almost every day and made him do _something_.

_“Hey, let’s play Smash. I bet I can beat you now that I’m older!”_

_“Wanna take me to McDonalds? I spent most of last period craving a Sprite.”_

_“I’m going on a walk, but my mom says you have to come with since it’s getting dark. Can you pleeeease come with me?”_

Johnny had sighed and groaned at the time, but Mark had saved him. Johnny would probably owe him for the rest of his life for not letting him disappear into the blankets or recede into a corner of his childhood bedroom to waste away.

“Yeah, I feel better.” Johnny nodded, throwing an arm around his cousin. “What movie are we watching today?”

They had to bicker it out— Mark wanted to watch some cheesy comedy, Johnny wanted to watch something experimental and French. They settled on sci-fi. About halfway through the movie, Johnny cracked open a beer, and Mark (freshly of drinking age) winced his way through a bottle with him. Johnny was surprised to learn that Mark’s tolerance, however, was lower than even his lowest estimate.

“I knew you were a good kid, but I didn’t know you really didn’t drink until you were legal.” Johnny blinked, watching his cousin become redder and redder as he took another swig. 

“School was more important.” Mark’s face scrunched up, and he muttered something about taste that was too low for Johnny to hear.

The movie was mostly over, and Mark clearly needed to get to bed, so Johnny pulled rank and paused the movie.

“Hey noooo.” Mark whined.

“We can finish another day, dude.” Johnny promised, grabbing the beat-up Vans from beside his door and unceremoniously shoving Mark’s feet into each one. He tied them, and remembered how he used to do this when Mark was too small to tie them himself. Mark’s hand landed on his hair, and Johnny looked up to see an unexpectedly fond expression on his cousin’s face.

“You should love yourself more.”

Johnny smiled, confused.

“Okay, Mark.” He chuckled. Mark was serious, far more serious than a person so intoxicated had a right to be.

“You’re a really loving person, bro. I know you are, because you’ve been like an older brother to me my whole life. You’ve just… you have the _biggest_ heart, which matches with the rest of you.” Mark giggled a bit, clearly finding himself clever. “You love everyone so much, and so hard. Me, Yuta, your parents… Kun.”

Johnny felt himself recoil, not expecting the conversation to take this particular direction.

“Mark.”

“Shh, I’m not done.” Mark took a deep breath before continuing. “I know you love Kun, present-tense. But you need to remember to love yourself, too.”

“I do love myself, Markie.” Johnny tried to sound more patient than he felt, but Mark’s mouth thinned to a line as he looked him over.

“No, you don’t.” He said after a moment of consideration. “Actually, I think you hate yourself. I think you hate yourself, and you’re using Kun as a reason to punish yourself for feeling happy, or at least not feeling miserable.”

“I don’t do that.” Johnny refocused his attention on Mark’s shoes, but he felt hot, and irritated, and like he just wanted this conversation to end.

“I get it. I won’t make you talk about this if you don’t want to.” Mark seemed to get the hint, backing down just the slightest bit. Johnny relaxed, just a bit, when Mark added, “I just know that he wouldn’t ask you to do this. He would probably be happy to see you happy.”

“Mark, I don’t want to talk about this.” He was beginning to wear thin.

“Okay.” Mark nodded then stood, swaying a bit, allowing his cousin to guide him down to where Johnny’s car was waiting in the lot. The drive back to campus was quiet, but not tense. Still, when Johnny shook Mark awake as he pulled up to the dorm, he seemed sheepish.

“Sorry if I, uh…” Mark glanced down, clearly still not operating at 100% capacity.

“It’s fine. I know you mean well.” Johnny nodded. Mark reached across the center console, wrapping Johnny in a brief hug before fleeing out the passenger door and disappearing into his building. Johnny watched his retreating back and wondered if his little cousin hadn’t really changed all that much.

As September slid by in cooling temperatures and orange hues, Johnny found himself getting back into the stride of work, support group, and finding ways to spend his free time. Unpacking seemed to be the best way to occupy his mind, so he threw himself into eliminating the boxes he had lying around the apartment still. He found a dusty film camera he had forgotten he owned in a box at the back of his closet. He’d stopped his photography hobby shortly after starting EMT school, just not having the time to spend on developing film. And then he’d met Kun, and his time went into that relationship and… well. Like most high school loves, he’d set it aside in adulthood, and it was soon forgotten.

He tried not to see that as a metaphor as he looked through the viewfinder. It hadn’t been damaged, at least. His phone buzzed, a reminder that it was time to leave for support group. He stood, absentmindedly slinging the camera strap over his neck, grabbing his coat, keys, and wallet, and heading out the door. He set the camera down on the passenger seat gently, started up the car, and decided he would pick up some film from the store on the way home.

Jaehyun was just getting out of his car as Johnny pulled up, and he waved enthusiastically, a dimpled smile adorning his face. Johnny threw a spare jacket over the camera to ward off potential car thieves, then went to join Jaehyun as he began making his way toward the doors.

“Excited to spill your guts?” Jaehyun grinned. Johnny huffed, surprised to find that his breath turned to mist in the cool fall air.

“Is my reluctance so obvious?” He shot back. Jaehyun laughed.

“Only to those of us who feel the same.” They thudded down the carpeted stairs. “Doctor Kim is a bit intense, but he’s good at his job. I guess doing this has helped me.”

“Hopefully I’ll get to that point, too.” Johnny sighed, setting the plastic container of store-bought brownie bites on the table.

“Are you going to that parade the city’s holding for the anniversary?” Jaehyun asked in a tone that indicated exactly how he felt about the event. Johnny felt his own chagrin spread to his expression, a mirror image of Jaehyun’s.

“I have to, I’m working.” He frowned. “Safety protocol, you know? Always best to have EMTs on the scene if anything goes south.”

“Ouch.” Jaehyun winced. “That sucks.”

“Better than staying at home and spiralling, I guess.” Johnny shrugged, only realizing after the words left him that he was probably divulging more than he should about his mental state. A quick glance at his new friend, however, revealed a knowing expression.

“Tell me about it.” Jaehyun replied conspiratorially, as if it was normal. As if the truth and depth of Johnny’s sorrow wasn’t uncomfortable, or taboo.

Doyoung appeared next to them, as if from thin air. Johnny wondered if this was a special super power he and Yuta had in common.

“Good to see you both.” Doyoung said, his words heavy with implication Johnny couldn’t really catch on to. “Jaehyun, how are things going with your thesis?”

“Fine, my advisor is a bit of a micromanager, but research is coming along well and I’m doing well in terms of word count, so it could be worse.” He shrugged.

“Good to hear.” The doctor nodded, turning toward Johnny. “And how was your week?”

“Can we… um…” Johnny tilted his head toward a quieter part of the room, and Jaehyun disappeared graciously. Doyoung followed Johnny as they found a place a little further from the other group members.

“Is everything okay?” Doyoung asked.

“Do you think I hate myself?” Johnny asked, Mark’s words from days ago still weighing heavily on his mind. “Do I… Do I punish myself for being happy?”

“What brought this about?” Doyoung’s eyebrows shot up.

“Can you please just answer the question.” Johnny frowned.

“I think my opinion on how you treat yourself doesn’t matter as much as how _you_ think you treat yourself.” Doyoung replied easily. “If the way you’re acting now is any indicator, I’d say you think those things are true. The real question is, what will you do with this information now that you’ve reached this conclusion?”

Johnny paused, eyeing the therapist with suspicion.

“Why do I feel like I’ve been tricked somehow?” He asked.

“Because I don’t let you off easy.” Doyoung shrugged, smile kind. “That’s why they pay me the big bucks.”

The therapist returned to the group, and Johnny took a moment to collect himself. What would he do with that information, indeed.

“Doyoung, I made your favorite!” Johnny looked up as Taeyong burst into the room, carrying an enormous tray of what looked like blueberry muffins. People immediately began flocking toward the table, and when Taeyong’s eyes landed on him briefly before shifting away, Johnny felt as though a bucket of ice water had been dumped over his head.

Yeah. Yeah, he had been punishing himself. But he wasn’t the only one who had felt the effects of that punishment.

Sitting through support group felt like a special kind of torture, the desire to talk to Taeyong, to apologize for being an idiot, made him feel like a shaken up bottle of soda, ready to burst. Jaehyun kept sliding him curious glances, but Johnny just smiled and kept his face as neutral as possible.

When Doyoung finally called the meeting to a close, Johnny immediately sprung into action, putting away his chair. When he turned to look for Taeyong, he was gone, along with the platter of muffins. It was highly unusual— Taeyong almost always stuck around after the meeting adjourned, letting the older people fuss over him and such.

Johnny glanced toward Taeyong’s empty chair, and noticed a notebook underneath it, evidently forgotten. He picked it up, examining the expensive black leather of the cover. He had noticed that Taeyong tended to bring it with him wherever he went, and Johnny knew that it would be missed soon. Figuring this was his chance, he made a dash for the door and up the stairs, emerging into the parking lot just as Taeyong was reaching his car.

“Taeyong!” He called, and the other man’s back stiffened. Taeyong turned slowly, face full of chagrin. “Your notebook, you left it.”

“Did you read it?” Taeyong’s eyes widened, fearful, and Johnny felt himself recoil.

“No, of course not.” He tried to keep the betrayal out of his voice, but it stung that Taeyong thought he would open what was so clearly a personal journal. “I just recognized it, you usually have it with you.”

“Oh.” Taeyong pulled the tome to himself, cradling it against his chest with a level of tenderness Johnny hadn’t expected. “Thank you.”

“It’s nothing.” He shook his head, taking a second to gather himself before continuing. “Hey, listen, I’m really sorry about—.”

“Hooking up with me?” Taeyong cut him off. “Yeah, I’d figured. Don’t worry about it, I won’t… bring it up or anything.”

“What? No!” Johnny shook his head. “No, I’m sorry for like. Dropping off the face of the planet.”

“That’s fine, too.” Taeyong shrugged. “Is that all you wanted to say?”

“Is that—?” Johnny gaped, trying to understand Taeyong’s hard expression. “Are you angry with me?”

“No, Johnny.” Taeyong huffed. “I’m not _angry_ with you. God.”

“Then why…” Johnny trailed off as Taeyong shot him an irritated look.

“I’m embarrassed.” He finally snapped. “I told you I liked you for _four years_ of my life, and you ghost me immediately after. Every time you’re in the same area as me, you avoid me like the plague. You know, if you weren’t interested, you should have just said so. Don’t worry, I still got the message. Loud and clear.”

“Taeyong, no, that’s not—.”

“I hope you got what you needed from this conversation, Johnny.” Taeyong opened the car door, not meeting his eyes. “I’ll see you next week.”

Johnny stepped back as Taeyong started the car, buckled his seatbelt, and pulled away.

“Idiot.” Johnny hissed, running a hand down his face. “I’m an idiot.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> don't forget to leave a kudo or a comment!
> 
> find me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/jyancity%E2%80%9D%20rel=) or [curiouscat](https://curiouscat.me/jyancity%E2%80%9D%20rel=)
> 
> next update: 1/18/2021

**Author's Note:**

> don't forget to leave a kudo or a comment!
> 
> find me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/jyancity%E2%80%9D%20rel=) or [curiouscat](https://curiouscat.me/jyancity%E2%80%9D%20rel=)
> 
> next update: 1/11/2021 (sorry for the delay i am american and also just had a weird week outside of the attempted coup ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ )


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